A Lesser Man
by Imadra Blue
Summary: In an alternate universe where Queen Amidala's ship never landed on Tatooine, Anakin Skywalker seeks to make his way in the galaxy on his own. He meets an unusual slave named Obi-Wan Kenobi, who quickly turns his world upside down. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Anakin/Obi-Wan (and a little Dooku/Obi-Wan)  
**Disclaimer:** This story is not affiliated with Lucasfilm Ltd., which owns Star Wars and its franchise.  
**Warnings:** Some Non-Con, Violence, Character Death  
**Notes:** Written for Dormida in the Jedi Santa gift exchange. Luthe helped supply the much needed plotbunny ovum for my plotbunny sperm. The differences in Anakin and Obi-Wan's characterizations are based off of the canon-divergent life paths they have in this AU. If you care for further explanations on characterization, detailed notes will be posted at the end of the story.  
**Thanks To:** Luthe and Ldymusyc for their excellent beta reading.

_And Obi-Wan Kenobi knows, too, that to have lived his life without being Master to Anakin Skywalker would have left him a different man. A lesser man._  
- Excerpt from Chapter One of the novelization of _Revenge of the Sith_ by Matthew Stover

...

Anakin Skywalker wiped the sweat off his brow with the dusty sleeve of his tunic, watching a sandstorm brew off in the distance. He could feel something coming with the storm, something that disturbed a sense he didn't have a name for.

The afternoon heat of Tatooine was particularly unbearable that day. The moisture converters weren't finding anything to convert, and Anakin knew it wasn't because their systems were faulty - he'd just finished checking them. Summers were always hard on the Lars homestead, and Anakin wondered whether he should try to hire himself out as a mechanic for extra money. Cliegg Lars would need all the help he could get, and Anakin still felt a debt of honor to him. It wasn't just that Cliegg was his stepfather - there were few men who would have bought a middle-aged woman and her young son as slaves and then subsequently freed them with no motivation beyond love.

The wind began to pick up, and the sand stirred around the Lars homestead. Anakin watched the sandstorm approaching, imagining what it might be like to stand in the middle of such a powerful force of nature.

A strange-looking ship flew over the sandstorm, a solar sail folding in as it passed over the Lars homestead. The sense of _something_ Anakin had felt went with it, and Anakin watched it recede into the horizon. He got a strange tingle down his spine.

"Anakin!"

Anakin turned to see his stepbrother, Owen, bending over to catch his breath. He looked up at Anakin, his round face red from exertion. "Anakin, your mom is worried about you. Why are you still out here? Storm's coming."

"Just wanted to make sure everything was working properly. I'm coming in now." Anakin clapped Owen on the back, and the two of them headed inside the homestead.

The sandstorm continued to lash its way across the desert.

...

Cliegg frowned at Anakin over the dinner table, and he and Shmi exchanged glances. Waning sunlight spilled in through the open door, and Anakin could see all the sand that had spilled over the farm's sunken courtyard during the sandstorm. He and Owen would be quite busy cleaning that up after dinner.

"I'm not sure it's such a good idea, Anakin," said Cliegg, sounding uncertain. He treated Anakin just as though he was his son, but there was always a sort of hesitance in his voice when he tried to give Anakin fatherly advice. There'd been too many fights during Anakin's adolescence for that, too much jealousy from Anakin for all the attention Shmi showered on Cliegg.

"I know you need me around here, Cliegg -" He'd never been able to stomach the idea of calling him "Father", and Cliegg had never asked. "- but I think you'll need the extra money more. Anything I don't need to survive, I'll send back here."

"But Annie, that means you'll be moving out," said Shmi, looking concerned. The past ten years with Cliegg had been kind to her, and she'd hardly aged at all.

Anakin would miss her greatly, but he knew it was time to leave. He could _feel_ it, deep inside. He was a man now, and he needed to find his own way in the galaxy, to be something more than what he was. Owen was already engaged to Beru Whitesun and prepared to take over the farm. It was Anakin who had his head in the clouds, who dreamed of returning to the pod races one day in hopes of winning enough money to leave Tatooine and explore the stars. The HoloNet said that war was spreading throughout the galaxy. Maybe he could even become a mechanic or a pilot and finally find some adventure and excitement.

"I'm a grown man, Mom," he answered quietly. Shmi stared down at her plate, then suddenly got up. She grabbed a broom and walked out to the courtyard as Threepio shuffled by. She started sweeping the sand into easy piles for Anakin and Owen to vacuum up, ignoring Threepio as he wandered off, complaining about sand in his joints.

Anakin followed her after a few minutes. She ignored him, too, until he grabbed her arm as she swept. When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms, still amazed that he was tall enough to rest his chin on her head. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Annie," she said, her voice muffled. "You're meant for greater things than this, I know. But no mother is going to be happy to see her son leave, even if she is proud of him. I'll miss you."

Anakin smiled, stroking her hair. It felt as coarse as his own, but she was starting to turn gray in places. "I'll miss you, too, Mom." He didn't lie. When Tusken Raiders had tried to take her last month, his heart had felt like a vise had gripped it. The thought of what might have happened had he not been up early and saw the attack still made him sick to his stomach. He had shot the Tusken Raiders dead with such speed and precision that Cliegg had told him that he had to be the finest sharpshooter on all Tatooine.

"You'll take care of yourself?" she asked.

"As long as you promise not to go out on your own anymore when it's still dark."

Shmi clutched his arms, and he could feel her smile against his chest. "Oh, Annie. I promise."

He left early the next morning while she was still sleeping.

...

Anchorhead was as dusty and hot as ever. Anakin had had no luck in finding a job. Everyone who would need a mechanic already had one. He stopped by one of the holoboards, wiping the sweat off his face with his sleeve. There was a bit of shade there, and Anakin hoped he might find something posted for Mos Eisley. If he didn't find work soon, he'd have to return to the Lars homestead empty-handed. All the money Cliegg loaned him would be wasted.

A bright-eyed girl stood by the holoboard as well. She was carrying a basket full of fruit, and Anakin recognized her as one of Beru's friends. "They say he's some sort of _noble_. And maybe even a Separatist!" she said suddenly, looking up from the board to stare at Anakin. He vaguely remembered Beru introducing them, obviously in hopes he might court the girl, but he still couldn't recall her name.

Anakin also had no clue what she was talking about; he remembered she had a strange tendency to burst out with non sequiturs during conversation. "Who?" he asked politely.

She pointed to one of the notices from a man requesting laborers at a private manse outside of Mos Eisley. "Him. All his guards call him 'my Lord'. Malchim, he goes by."

Anakin read the request, noticing Malchim was asking for mechanics. "Why would a Separatist come to Tatooine?"

"Who would look for him here?"

She had a point. Anakin shrugged, pressing the screen to get more info. "I don't care if he's a Sith Lord. He's paying good money - and offering room and board."

The girl stared at him. "He keeps slaves, you know."

Anakin stopped cold, feeling a familiar prickling sensation on his face. It was no secret that he had been a slave as a child or that he hated slavery. He glanced at the holoboard, but found no other options. Of course, he could always have tried out as a dancer at Jabba's palace, but had a feeling he was a bit under-qualified for the job.

"Still want to work for Malchim?" The girl was practically bouncing with curiosity, her gaze fixed on Anakin as if he were nothing but a holoplayer meant for her amusement. Anakin remembered why he had excused himself from their first meeting as soon as possible.

He copied the location of Malchim's manse into his datapad before turning to her. "As a matter of fact, I do."

She gaped at him as he walked away.

...

Anakin suspected Lord Malchim had some sort of arrangement with the Hutts when he arrived at the large manse the next afternoon. There were Gamorrean guards stationed at every exit. Only Jabba the Hutt used Gamorreans to Anakin's knowledge. The amount of sentries and armed guards around the place would only be allowed if one of the Hutts gave the owner permission.

The manse itself was elegant, if blocky in design. Huge squared-off pillars lined the front porch, and the rectangular doors were large enough to admit a small rancor. The Gamorrean who had led him onto the property opened the front door and gestured him inside, grunting in Huttese that he should go to the room at the end of the hallway. To Anakin's surprise, the Gamorrean did not follow him in and instead closed the doors behind him with a rather final thud.

The inside of the manse was cooler than anything Anakin was used to. He shivered, pulling his cloak around him as he looked around. The lighting was very poor and kept flickering in places - the thin, slitted windows gave more light than anything, as limited as it was. The vaulted ceiling and the large, empty hallway made Anakin feel quite small. The manse itself was made of dark stone, and other than being polished to shining perfection, it had no other decoration. There was no noise, and no one else around. Anakin had never been in a tomb, but he couldn't help but make the comparison.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the gloom, Anakin saw the large set of doors at the end of the hallway. He walked towards it; his soft-soled boots did not echo on the stone floor as he thought they might. He got a strong sense of _presence_ the further he went down the hall - three presences to be exact. Two behind the doors he was heading towards, and one down a smaller hallway to the left. Anakin always had the uncanny ability to sense others, but these three people he sensed felt stronger than most people - far stronger.

Anakin took a deep breath when he reached the tall doors. They slid open with a soft rush of air just as he lifted his hand to knock. The room inside was much like the hallway, but even colder and darker. "Come in," said a male voice. It was a cultured voice, deep and rich with a Core accent.

Anakin did as the man ordered, though a part of him wanted to turn tail and run. Anakin took another moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room before making out two people. The man who had spoken sat at the end of a long, polished black table, resting easily in a high-backed chair. He was dressed like a noble, that was for certain. Beside him stood a bald woman, wearing a black dress and a fierce scowl. Anakin could feel the presence of the man who spoke as though he was one of the Tatooine suns. The woman's presence was not as strong, but still impressive.

"You are the mechanic, Anakin Skywalker?"

Anakin nodded. "Yes... my Lord," he said awkwardly, glancing at the woman. She was looking at Anakin as though considering if he should be fried or baked for dinner.

The man smiled. He was old, but there was nothing slow or weak about the way he stood up. He looked like a sleek old predator, capable of ripping Anakin's throat out should he get too close. "I am Malchim. This is my associate, Asajj Ventress." He glanced at the woman, who only crossed her arms over her chest by way of greeting.

Anakin bowed to both of them. Ventress did not acknowledge it, but Malchim inclined his head. Anakin noticed the metallic hilts of what looked like Jedi lightsabers hanging off their belts. He felt a cold drop in his stomach. What _were_ these people?

"Do you have any experience with electrical work?" asked Malchim, gesturing towards the flickering light fixtures on the ceiling. "This building is old, and the wiring has been giving us some trouble. I've had to reroute a few generators to one of the rooms for, ah, personal reasons, and it seems to have tapped out the electric in the rest of the building."

Anakin nodded. "I can do electric work. And robotics. If it has wires, gears, or electrons, I can fix it. I can even build you something, if you want." He shut his mouth, silently cursing himself for sounding so eager for the job. He'd run out of money at breakfast, and he couldn't face the shame of returning back to the Lars's with no job and no money.

"How good are you, young Skywalker? The last electrician I hired wasn't up to my standards, and I'd hate for you to suffer his same fate." Malchim gestured to a corner, and Anakin noticed the crumpled body of a Rodian lying there. He shuddered.

"I'm very good, sir." Anakin managed to keep the tremble out of his voice.

"If you can fix the electricity in this building, I'd be pleased to make you part of my staff. Everyone needs a good mechanic. I can pay you ten thousand credits for the electrical work, and two thousand every month, with bonuses for any large projects I assign you. You'll have room, board, and transportation provided to you. Is that enough?"

Anakin almost fainted at the amount of credits that Malchim was offering him. "Yes, sir," he said in a weak voice.

"I'll show you our problem, then. Follow me."

Anakin followed Malchim out of the room, relieved to escape the intense gaze of Ventress. Malchim led him down one of the side hallways Anakin had passed, heading straight for that other _something_ - it was stronger than Ventress's presence, almost as strong at Malchim's.

"What is that you did for a living before coming here?" asked Malchim. He strode through the hall in brisk, wide steps, making Anakin double his pace to keep up.

"I worked on my stepfather's moisture farm."

Malchim gave him a curious glance as they reached a door guarded by a large Gamorrean. He stepped aside, and the door slid open. Malchim motioned Anakin to follow him inside.

The room looked to be some sort of modified ballroom and was as dark as the rest of the manse, lit only by the sunlight spilling in through a single slitted window. A large bed rested on a stone platform against the wall. Anakin heard a soft humming sound and noticed thin, glowing tubes surrounding a polished silver panel. A chain hung from it, and Anakin followed it with his gaze, noticing a man lying on the bed - the source of the third strong presence. Metal clinked against metal, and the man sat up. He wore a slave collar around his neck.

"Obi-Wan," said Malchim, his smile feral. "Did you sleep well last night?" There was something odd about the way he said "sleep" that made Anakin's skin crawl.

"Never better," said Obi-Wan. His voice was melodic and light, but there was a durasteel edge to his tone. He moved so the sunlight spilled over him, and Anakin sucked in his breath.

Obi-Wan was beautiful. His face was full of boyish good looks not hindered by his sparse beard. His light brown hair was healthier than any Anakin had seen, and his skin too smooth and pale to be a Tatooine native. The bed sheets had slipped so low that when Anakin's gaze wandered down from the man's flat belly to his hips, Anakin realized he could see a tuft of pubic hair peeking out.

Anakin snapped his gaze back up to the man's face the moment he felt his pants grow tight. Obi-Wan noticed his attention and tilted an eyebrow, his blue-gray eyes narrowing slightly. Anakin felt hot under his gaze.

"Who is this?" asked Obi-Wan.

Malchim's smile was cold now. "A mechanic who claims to be able to fix the electrical wiring. I brought him here to show him the source of the problem."

"Wonderful. Did you bring me a container for my joy as well?"

"Sadly, no." Malchim turned to Anakin and drew his attention to another silver panel on the other side of the room from Obi-Wan. "When we set up the dampening field for Obi-Wan, this panel blew, and took out most of the power throughout the building. The tricky part is that I can't turn off the power, otherwise Obi-Wan might regret what I have to do to him. You'll have to fix the panel live. Hopefully, fixing it will restore power throughout the building."

Anakin suddenly realized why Malchim was offering so much money. These energy panels had to be linked directly to the main generator, and with one blown, the whole building was suffering. Working on such a powerful system when live could cost Anakin his life if he made even the slightest mistake. "I'll need tools. And grounding gloves," said Anakin.

Malchim nodded and snapped his fingers at one of the Gamorrean guards. "Fetch the toolkit the Rodian was using," he ordered. The Gamorrean grunted in response and then waddled off.

Malchim turned back to Anakin expectantly, crossing his arms. Taking the hint, Anakin moved over to the dead panel, bending down to inspect it. He cast a glance over at Obi-Wan, who was now lying on his bed with his head propped up by a hand. He watched Anakin with a bored expression.

"Maybe I'll get lucky, and this one will blow the entire system," said Obi-Wan after a moment.

"That would be a pity," said Malchim. "If you tried anything right now, I would be forced to point out that not only are you unarmed, but considerably out of your league."

"Why don't we put your theory of superiority to the test the old-fashioned way?"

"I think not. I'd truly hate to kill you, Obi-Wan. We were only just starting to get along."

Anakin tried to pretend he wasn't listening as he carefully removed the silver panel from the wall, but he suspected Malchim thought so little of him that he didn't care what Anakin overheard. Anakin didn't entirely understand their conversation, but it was clear Obi-Wan was being held against his will. As beautiful as he was, Anakin thought he had to be some sort of pleasure slave. Granted, Anakin had never seen a male pleasure slave who was allowed to grow a beard, but perhaps Malchim liked the feel of it. Thoughts of Malchim running his hands over Obi-Wan made Anakin's gut twist into hard knots, so he pushed the image away while he tried to figure out the meaning of the glowing wires and tubing inside the panel.

When Gamorrean returned with the toolkit, Anakin got to work with Malchim's hard gaze on his back the entire time. He focused on the inside of the panel and on not electrocuting himself. He soon forgot all about Obi-Wan and Malchim, hardly even noticing the time as it passed. Avoiding danger came with surprising ease, but Anakin quickly realized there was only so much he could do. The system Malchim had wired to the power generators was draining the entire power supply. Anakin reworked some of the wiring as best he could so it would flow more directly, but the problem was simply that there wasn't enough power.

He straightened up when he was done, pleased to note the lights had come on in Obi-Wan's room, though they were dim. Malchim was sitting in a chair, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're going to need another small generator," Anakin told him. "Maybe two. Whatever you have running off the system is draining it so that no matter what I do, I can't bring it up to full power."

Malchim steepled his fingers under his chin, regarding Anakin silently for a moment. "Can you install the generators while the system is live?"

Anakin swallowed. His mind already whirled with ways to divert power in places while installing the generators, but it would be one of the hardest things he'd ever done - not to mention dangerous. It hadn't been as hard as he thought to rewire while the system was live, but installing generators was an entirely different species of difficult.

"Maybe."

Malchim smiled, a feral expression that made Anakin nervous. "Are you bartering with me, young Skywalker?"

Anakin shrugged. It hadn't been his intention, but if Malchim wanted him to install generators into a live system, it would cost him more.

"I'll pay you another ten thousand," said Malchim.

The casual offers of large sums of money were starting to make Anakin dizzy. "Deliverable to my family even if I die?"

"I'll have a contract drawn up."

Anakin nodded and then pointed at the silver panel Obi-Wan was chained to. "I will need a look at that, to see how it's connected. I won't disrupt anything, but I will need to make sure the connections are solid and won't blow up when I install the new generators."

Malchim studied him for a moment, then pulled out the lightsaber hanging off his belt. He held it in his hand, glancing at Obi-Wan, who sat up again, looking at Anakin with interest. "Do what you must, but have care with what you choose to do, young Skywalker."

The implied threat was clear, even to Anakin. "Understood."

"Have at it."

Anakin studied Obi-Wan as he walked to the other silver panel. Obi-Wan's body tensed, the muscles in his arms flexing dangerously. Anakin removed the panel and moved even closer to Obi-Wan's bed as he did so, keeping the connection to the chain strong. Malchim shifted as Anakin worked, gently tapping his unlit lightsaber against his thigh.

It wasn't Malchim that distracted Anakin, though. He was close enough to Obi-Wan that he could smell him now, a musky male scent mingled with another scent Anakin recognized after a moment. It made him remember a time he and Owen had been to a brothel in Mos Eisley, and he'd stumbled across a room filled with men. He'd been incredibly curious and stayed in the room for most of the night. He couldn't remember the faces of any of the men he'd fucked but he remembered the smell of what he'd done all over his body. Obi-Wan smelled like that.

Anakin almost slipped and dropped the panel, but he regained control quickly, sucking in his breath. He tried to force thoughts of Obi-Wan and sex out of his mind, leaning closer to the panel to study the wiring. It was almost exactly the same as the other panel, but was in perfect working order. The only difference was that the energy was being redirected through a strange power converter Anakin had never seen before. Its connections led to the chain around Obi-Wan's neck.

Anakin gently lowered the panel to the floor, feeling Malchim tense with every movement he made. Anakin ignored both him and Obi-Wan, reaching in to redirect the wires. As he cleared the pathways, he _felt_ a sense of danger - but not from the power coursing at his fingertips. Anakin ducked without thinking. He heard a loud clank of metal and saw Obi-Wan's chain slam into the wall, passing over his head with only centimeters to spare.

Anakin quickly backed away from the panel, smelling ozone as a sharp thrum filled the room. When Anakin turned around to see what happened, Malchim was holding Obi-Wan back with one arm, his red lightsaber inches from Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan struggled for a moment and then went still, breathing heavily. He was completely naked; his sheet had been left discarded on the bed.

Despite his confusion and anger over what was happening, Anakin couldn't help but admire Obi-Wan's nude form.

"Now, now, Obi-Wan," said Malchim. "That was hardly civilized behavior. The young man is only trying to fix our power, and there you were, trying to choke him with your own chain. And what for? So you could escape and face me again? Do you want to die so badly?"

Anakin's heart dropped into his stomach. Obi-Wan was still staring at Anakin, anger written across his features. Anakin didn't think the anger was directed at him, but there was power behind his glare. Anakin glared back.

"I'm a Jedi Knight, not a slave. I was only doing what I had to do," spat Obi-Wan.

A Jedi. Anakin's mind spun, and his legs gave out. He sat down on the hard, cold floor, wondering how the Clone Wars had come here, to _Tatooine_. A Jedi had just tried to _kill_ him.

Malchim threw Obi-Wan onto the bed with more strength than Anakin thought an old man capable. "You're a fool, like the rest of the Jedi," hissed Malchim. "You blindly serve a Republic rife with corruption and evil. Your former Master is dead because of Jedi ignorance on Geonosis, and I chose to spare your life only because it was his dying request. I have given you two options, Obi-Wan. You do not have to be a slave."

"I'd rather be a slave than a traitor," Obi-Wan hissed, looking furious.

"Then a slave you shall remain." Malchim turned to Anakin. "Are you finished, young Skywalker?"

"Y-yes."

Malchim turned his lightsaber off, and the humming in Anakin's ears stopped. "Then replace the panel. Take this as your first lesson of how low the Jedi are willing to sink. He was willing to kill you, an innocent civilian, for a chance at a freedom that would only result in his death."

Anakin swallowed, torn by resentment for anyone having to be enslaved and fear over the fact that he'd almost died. Malchim held out a hand. Anakin stared at it a moment, noticing that despite the spots of age, Malchim held it steady. His fingers were long and slightly crooked, and his nails perfectly manicured. Anakin realized Malchim was offering to help him up, and he grabbed his hand, coming to his feet.

Anakin quickly replaced the panel, making sure it was securely in place before he even looked at Obi-Wan again. Obi-Wan laid on his bed again, staring angrily at the wall. Malchim ushered Anakin out of the room, turning back to speak to Obi-Wan as they left.

"If it is slavery you prefer to joining me as an equal, then it is slavery I will give you." Malchim whirled out of the room and gestured at a servo-droid floating through the hallway. "Find Igis, and tell her to shave Kenobi's face and cut his hair. I want him bathed and groomed properly for the new occupation he chose."

"Yes, Master," chirped the servo-droid in a tinny, child-like voice and floated away.

Malchim spun on him. "You did well in there. I'm hardly a mechanic, but I know enough to understand you managed to do what few other beings could do - work on a live system. You also have amazing reflexes. It was almost as if you felt Obi-Wan's attack before he made it."

Anakin swallowed. "I'm fast. I used to race pods as a child - I'm the only human who could ever do it."

"I am impressed." Malchim inclined his head, his dark eyes glittering as he studied Anakin. "Let us have lunch together, and we'll discuss the terms of your contract."

Anakin nodded, uncomfortable to be the center of Malchim's attention. Malchim motioned for Anakin to fall into step beside him as they walked through the manse.

"You dislike slavery, don't you?"

Anakin swallowed. "It's not for me to say, my Lord."

"You may be honest when you speak to me. I think it is disgusting to place sentient beings in servitude. However, it is sometimes unavoidable. Obi-Wan has chosen to place himself in slavery."

"How can anyone make that choice?" asked Anakin before he could stop himself.

Malchim seemed unperturbed. "I offered him a chance to join me as my apprentice, but he has thus far refused. I spared his life in hopes that he will come to appreciate my ideals. He has potential."

Anakin digested that information before speaking. "You're a Separatist, aren't you?"

"Malchim is merely the name I've chosen for my own protection here. I am Count Dooku." Anakin started, realizing he was walking beside the Separatist leader himself. "Does that bother you, young Skywalker?" asked Dooku after a moment.

Anakin shrugged. "Not really, no. Separatist, Loyalist - it's all the same to me. The war doesn't really matter out here."

"It should matter to you." Dooku paused, leaning towards Anakin, his expression alive with passion. "You saw what Obi-Wan was willing to do just to escape. It should be clear to you that the Jedi and the Republic they serve are corrupt. I may or may not be able to salvage young Obi-Wan, but most of those antiquated fools are lost causes. I will save the Republic from itself. If you succeed in installing the power generators, young Skywalker, I can offer you a job building things that will help me complete my vision."

Anakin felt like Tatooine itself was crashing down around his ears. Dooku was offering him everything he'd ever dreamed of, right then and there. He was offering Anakin the chance to be a hero, to travel the galaxy, to make a _difference_.

He didn't even consider not accepting the offer.

...

The power generators took two days to arrive. Anakin spent the time in the quarters Dooku gave him, marveling over the luxuries of his new life. His room was spacious and comfortable - though Anakin had to reset the temperature to something a bit warmer once he moved in. Dooku was a distant man, constantly in conference with Ventress, who he described as his "assistant". Anakin suspected Ventress had other purposes, but after he saw her spar against a battle droid with two lightsabers, he decided he didn't want to know about them. She didn't seem to like him much.

A protocol droid summoned Anakin to Obi-Wan's room once the generators were brought in. Dooku was already waiting for him, sitting in the same chair, making it seem like a throne. "Well, my young friend, it all lies in your hands. I'd wish you luck, but -" Dooku's eyes glittered oddly at Anakin. "- I don't think your skills have anything to do with luck."

Anakin didn't understand Dooku's statement, but smiled anyways, turning to the silver panel that covered the drained power system. Two small power generators stood outside of it, waiting for him. A box of tools lay on a nearby table. Anakin got to work, feeling Dooku's eyes on his back. As he popped the silver panel off the wall, he snuck a peek at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan sat on his bed, watching Anakin as well. His hair had been cut, and his face had been shaved - he looked even younger than before and twice as beautiful. He still wore no clothes, and his lower body was covered by his sheets. He narrowed his blue-gray eyes at Anakin, and Anakin looked away, forcing himself to concentrate on his job. He didn't need to be distracted by Obi-Wan when he was trying to install generators, much less into a _live_ system.

The ease with which Anakin performed one of the most difficult forms of installation imaginable almost frightened him. He felt much like he had when he was pod racing - like there was _something_ there telling him when to move and what to do as he moved and connected wires. He wasn't Anakin Skywalker while he worked; he was the wires and the electrons pulsing through them. He was the generator and the hydrospanner he used to install it. He lost all sense of time and reality beyond his task, and when Anakin stood up, he was surprised to find that it was dark outside.

But the lights were on, and they did not flicker.

Anakin smiled as Dooku rose and applauded him. "Well done, young Skywalker. Well done."

Anakin cast a glance at Obi-Wan, who was staring at him as intently before. There was something sharp in his expression. Anakin wondered if he'd been close enough, if Obi-Wan would have tried to kill him again. He looked away as Dooku put a hand on his shoulder.

"This way, my boy. Let's discuss your next project," said Dooku, leading him to the door. "You're going to be a real help to the Separatist movement."

"He's evil," called out Obi-Wan.

Anakin turned to look at Obi-Wan, surprised to find that the other man was looking directly at him. Obi-Wan leaned forward on the bed, his chain clinking as he moved. "He's a Sith Lord. You can't trust him."

"Delusional," said Dooku smoothly, guiding Anakin out of the room. "Completely delusional. Such a pity the Jedi have sunk so far."

Anakin stared into Obi-Wan's steely blue-gray eyes until the door slid shut.

...

The next few weeks passed quickly for Anakin.

He had little time to think about Obi-Wan's words with the amount of work Dooku gave him, but it was the sort of work he enjoyed best. Dooku had him working on designs for starfighters and fixing the damage done to the ship he'd arrived on - it looked as through it had been through a space battle, which Anakin suspected was the case. Though he spent a lot of time in Dooku's company, he asked him few questions; he figured it was none of his business. Dooku was a polite host and always took dinner with Anakin. He genteelly discussed the troubles that plagued the Republic - troubles he planned on solving.

Eventually Anakin's duties cycled into a repetitive schedule, and he grew accustomed to his new life at Dooku's manse. He sent almost all of his money back to Cliegg, keeping only a small portion for himself. Cliegg was overjoyed - he was going to hire people to work the farm for him and began the process of expanding the luxuries around the homestead. Shmi told Anakin that any money left over would be put into savings accounts for both him and Owen. Anakin felt uncomfortable speaking to his family as long as he was in the manse, so he kept his conversations short, though it made him happy to see his mother and Cliegg so proud of him. It was like he could finally pay Cliegg back for freeing Anakin and his mother, giving him a better life - and even putting up with Anakin's early adolescence.

Anakin quickly grew pensive in the manse, wondering exactly how "free" he was. To his surprise, when he strode up to Dooku and demanded standard working hours, Dooku gave it to him. Dooku let him leave whenever he wanted, and Anakin was given access to an old landspeeder just for that purpose. When he checked the speeder for trackers, it was remarkably clean of them. Anakin felt more at ease after that and more comfortable with Dooku. He was a sharp-minded old man, and he treated Anakin fairly. He reminded Anakin of someone, but he couldn't say who or why.

Fixing Dooku's ship was mindless drudge work - satisfying, but mindless. Anakin's thoughts often drifted to Obi-Wan when he had time to himself. He didn't focus on Obi-Wan's words, but rather the man himself. Something about Obi-Wan drew Anakin to him, like a bantha to water. He couldn't say why, not at first - it felt like something out of a dream. He felt sympathy for Obi-Wan's situation, but every time he got angry over it, Anakin remembered Obi-Wan trying to kill him. Then his anger quickly shifted to Obi-Wan. Why was he being so stupid? Dooku was offering him an opportunity of a lifetime as far as Anakin was concerned, but chose slavery over it. It made no sense.

With Obi-Wan as an example of the other Jedi, Anakin could understand Dooku's frustration with them.

...

The more Anakin thought about Obi-Wan, the more he wanted him.

A hot shower after a particularly hard day's work of hauling hyperdrive parts and power couplings around did nothing to remove that desire. Anakin's fingers scrabbled at the tiling of the shower stall, and he bent forward with his eyes closed. Showers were a luxury on Tatooine, but here at Dooku's manse, they were something Anakin could afford to do every day. The hot liquid pouring over his skin made him think of sliding into hot places, sweat dripping off pale skin, and the clink of a metal chain.

Anakin was hard now, his body tingling with pent-up desire. He could have gone to burn off some of the tension at a brothel, but he'd never cared for the uncomfortable feeling that paying people for sex gave him. He supposed he could have found some willing girl at Mos Eisley, but didn't want some random girl. He wanted Obi-Wan.

Anakin slapped his palms against the shower stall in frustration before turning the shower cold. He shivered and waited for his arousal to fade. To his frustration, the desire for Obi-Wan remained, even after he had gone flaccid.

Anakin quickly left the shower and dressed. Even if Dooku was willing to share his pleasure slave, Anakin didn't want to take advantage of that. Slavery still left a bad taste in his mouth, even if it was one Obi-Wan chose.

Anakin frowned. Dooku had seemed honest with him, even likeable, but Obi-Wan's words niggled at the back of Anakin's mind. Anakin knew as much about Jedi as any young boy with impossible dreams to become one could know, and the label of Sith Lord was not be one easily bandied about. Anakin still remembered a HoloNet report that Watto had shown him when he was nine, of two Jedi defeating a Sith Lord on some watery planet in the Mid Rim. Anakin still remembered the faces of those Jedi. The younger one had been injured in the fight, but he'd stood beside his Master proudly enough that Anakin had considered him the greater hero.

The face of the young Jedi suddenly materialized in Anakin's mind, matching up to Obi-Wan's freshly shaven face. The past decade had made little change to his appearance.

Anakin flew out of the 'fresher and straight to the computer terminal in his darkened room. Anakin slid into the chair and pulled up the HoloNet's memory banks. It didn't take him long to find information on the Battle of Naboo. Anakin scanned the entry and the holos. He found Obi-Wan in minutes, looking as he had been ten years ago, with a rather ridiculous-looking haircut and bandages wrapped around his arm.

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood beside his Master at the time, a tall, leonine man with long brown hair named Qui-Gon Jinn. The holofile said that Jinn and Obi-Wan had faced a Sith Lord in the power generator of Theed, the capital city of the planet Naboo. They'd managed to defeat him, but not before the Sith had injured Obi-Wan's right arm. The long, drawn-out battle with the droid army of the Trade Federation had resulted in the death of Queen Amidala and most of her entourage, but the Jedi had been able to capture the Viceroy and negotiate a peace treaty for the people of Naboo when a pilot named Ric Olié knocked out the Droid Control Ship.

Anakin sat back, considering the information. That Obi-Wan was the same Padawan who had fought beside his Master in battle against a Sith Lord seemed unreal. Jedi, Sith, Separatists, the Republic... all these things were far away to Anakin. They'd never seemed real before, but here they were, in the flesh. Anakin wondered if Dooku really was evil.

Then Anakin wondered what it mattered. Dooku was giving him enough money to ensure he and his family lived quite comfortably for the rest of their lives. Dooku was giving him a chance to be something, to go somewhere. The Jedi were not superbeings - Dooku had proven that by keeping Obi-Wan as a slave. The same Jedi that Anakin had once regarded as a hero had tried to kill him. Who was to say the Jedi were good? Didn't everyone look at their enemy and declare them evil while proclaiming their own righteousness? Didn't every truth come from a certain point of view?

Anakin turned off the HoloNet and stared thoughtfully at the blank computer terminal. With only half a thought to what he was doing, his fingers stretched out over the controls, hacking through Dooku's security systems. It would have been easier with an astromech, but Anakin let that sense of _something_ guide his fingers, allowing him to break through the firewalls and electronic defenses until he was able to access the monitoring system. He brought up the holofeed of Obi-Wan's room and focused the holocamera until he had a good shot of Obi-Wan.

Dooku was there, standing by Obi-Wan's bed. He had one hand around Obi-Wan's neck, fingers digging into his flesh, the other holding a sparking metal prod. Anakin recognized it as a painstick after a moment; it was a tool the crueler masters would use on the more unruly slaves. Dooku wore an expression Anakin hadn't seen before, a rather frightening sneer. Angry red welts stretched across Obi-Wan's torso, thighs, and even his flaccid cock. Dooku ran the painstick down Obi-Wan's smooth cheek, then cast it aside. Another angry red welt appeared on Obi-Wan's face, and his expression twisted in obvious pain. Anakin's stomach twisted at the implications of what Dooku had done to the rest of Obi-Wan, but he turned up the audio before he could think better of it.

"Surely you must tire of this, Obi-Wan. You're not a whore, and I dislike treating you like one."

Obi-Wan glared up at him, looking somewhere between disgusted and angry. "If you dislike it so much, then why don't you stop?"

"If you're going to choose the life of a slave, Obi-Wan, then you'll live that role." Dooku jerked Obi-Wan upwards by his chain, and Anakin could hear Obi-Wan choking. "Qui-Gon would have been disappointed to see you like this."

Obi-Wan swung his arms upwards, and Anakin thought Obi-Wan had hit Dooku until he realized Dooku had moved faster and wrapped Obi-Wan's arms in his own chains. Dooku pressed Obi-Wan face first into the wall, lightning arcing from his fingertips into Obi-Wan for a brief second. If it weren't for Obi-Wan's soft cry of pain and the way his body arched, Anakin would have thought he'd only imagined the sight.

"How can you still be so sure of the Jedi, Obi-Wan?" hissed Dooku, leaning against Obi-Wan. He brushed away strands of hair from Obi-Wan's ear as tenderly as a lover before dropping his hand to his belt. "Qui-Gon joined me, only to be murdered by Mace Windu when the Jedi arrived to 'save' him. Qui-Gon realized the futility of the corrupt Republic - it needs to be destroyed."

"That's not true! You're lying! Qui-Gon never joined you, and _you_ murdered him!" Obi-Wan started to struggle, thrashing against Dooku violently. Anakin's stomach clenched as he realized what Dooku was going to do - what he had _already_ done.

Dooku viciously slammed Obi-Wan's head into the wall and then lowered him onto his bed, chaining him face down so he looked as if he were on some sort of perverse display. "It is you who delude yourself with lies, Obi-Wan." Dooku grabbed a bottle of oil off one of the nearby tables and knelt behind Obi-Wan. He worked open his pants. "The harder you fight me," he whispered, "the harder I will fuck you."

Obi-Wan jerked uselessly against his chains as Dooku oiled him. Anakin shuddered in revulsion. The initial shock had finally worn off, and the entire show disgustedAnakin. He backed out of the security monitoring system, trying not to look as Dooku forced himself on Obi-Wan. Anakin restored the firewall settings back to normal, leaving no trace of his hacking behind. He tried not to think about how Obi-Wan had cried out or how Obi-Wan had thrashed in protest, but he found he could think of nothing else.

Anakin turned his face from the blinking monitor screen, surprised as anger and jealousy surged up inside of him. It infuriated him that Dooku was repeatedly raping another man in an effort to break his will. Worse, he realized he envied Dooku the ability to touch Obi-Wan. Anakin wanted Obi-Wan so badly it hurt, and the realization that he was willing to take a slave just to claim that proud, dangerous man as his own frightened him.

Anakin held his head, burying his fingers in his hair. No. He didn't want Obi-Wan to be his slave. He just wanted Obi-Wan to look at him with something other than the cool disdain he'd given Anakin so far. Obi-Wan was important; Anakin knew this somehow. He'd known it since he'd seen Obi-Wan on the HoloNet when he was nine. He'd dreamed of saving him one day and of leaving Tatooine forever.

Anakin told himself it was just a dream. Just a foolish boy's dream. It meant nothing, just like his boyhood dream about Qui-Gon Jinn taking him away to become a Jedi himself meant nothing. It hadn't come to pass, nor had the dream about marrying the beautiful Queen Amidala. When her death was announced, those dreams had stopped, replaced by the ones of Anakin saving Obi-Wan from lightning writhing all over his body. The dreams were hazy, half-formed, and as real and intent as they felt, Anakin couldn't let himself be deluded into believing them as he had as a child.

Anakin walked over to his bed, trying to force away that jealousy that made him want to rush to Obi-Wan's room and rip Dooku's head off with his bare hands. What did Anakin know about anything? He was just a poor farmboy living on the edges of civilization. Dooku had taken him in and given him the job he always dreamed of. In a few weeks, they would leave Tatooine, and Anakin was to go with him. Dooku spoke of things Anakin believed in, things like justice and equality - even ending slavery. The Jedi certainly had not even bothered to do anything like that.

Yet, Dooku was keeping a slave; he was raping him at that very moment. Even if Obi-Wan was as corrupt as the Jedi might be, no man deserved that. Anakin briefly entertained visions of breaking into Obi-Wan's room, shooting Dooku in the back, and freeing Obi-Wan from his bonds. Then he entertained other visions of Dooku turning around and killing him with his glowing red lightsaber and of Obi-Wan choking Anakin with the very chains that Anakin had just freed him from.

Anakin took a pill so he could sleep that night.

...

"I probably won't return for a week. Maybe longer."

Anakin nodded when Dooku told him of his departure, unable to look him in the eye. Every time he tried to focus on Dooku's face or voice, he remembered seeing Dooku rape Obi-Wan through the security monitoring. It repulsed him.

"Continue to work on the design of that starfighter for me - it's quite clever. Lady Ventress shall remain here, but I expect she may be a bit busy, so don't bother her."

Anakin resisted the urge to snort; there was nothing short of life or death circumstances that would drive him to want any interaction with such a formidable woman. "Yes, my Lord," was all he said.

"When I return, we will probably soon leave the planet. I don't like to stay in one place for too long. I foresee Obi-Wan is close to coming to his senses." The wretched smile on Dooku's face sent spikes of jealousy through Anakin's belly. Obi-Wan didn't belong to Dooku, no matter what.

"Yes, my Lord," Anakin managed to repeat, fighting off the urge to break Dooku's jaw.

"Take care then, young Skywalker. I shall see you upon my return."

Anakin stood by the door, leaning against the frame as Dooku walked out to the small landing pad behind the manse. Dooku boarded the Geonosian solarsail he'd arrived in - Anakin had tuned it up himself. Its smooth liftoff and accelerated speed filled Anakin with some pride. He liked this job, and he enjoyed everything it entailed. There was only one set-back.

Anakin's thoughts darkened as they turned back to the Jedi that Dooku had chained to a wall, and Anakin went back inside.

_To be concluded__ in Part Two__…_


	2. Chapter 2

On the second day after Dooku left, Anakin gave in to his desire to see Obi-Wan again.

Ventress had been keeping to herself, which was a good thing as far as Anakin was concerned. He'd spent the past two days alone, working on the designs he'd drawn up for the starfighters Dooku wanted. He was already starting to go a bit stir crazy, and thoughts of Obi-Wan plagued him night and day.

Anakin stood outside the door to Obi-Wan's room, staring at the Gamorrean guard outside the door. He wanted the Gamorrean to allow him entrance so badly that he could think of little else as he stared him. The Gamorrean stared back, and Anakin felt a surge of _something_ inside of him.

"You want to let me in," he found himself saying. Anakin's hand twitched at the Gamorrean, and the surge of energy passed out of him and spiraled towards the Gamorrean.

The Gamorrean suddenly palmed the entrance button and stood aside. Anakin wasn't entirely surprised; strange things like that had happened before to him. It didn't always work, but Anakin had found the less intelligent someone was, the more likely they were to do what he wanted. Gamorreans were hardly known for their brains, so he paid it little mind.

Obi-Wan's room was quite a bit warmer than the rest of the manse. Anakin suspected that the energy from the power generators behind the silver panels were warming the room. Anakin walked inside, making sure the door slid closed behind him and the Gamorrean wouldn't disturb him. The sound of metal clinking made Anakin turn to the corner of the room, where Obi-Wan's bed was.

Obi-Wan wasn't on the bed. Instead, he was sitting on the platform beside it with his legs crossed. He wasn't wearing any clothes, but the only person that seemed to be troubled with that fact was Anakin.

"Hello," said Anakin. He had the distinct urge to slap himself for sounding so stupid.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him in a manner that reminded Anakin of Dooku. "Hello," he said, sounding polite. Culture rolled off his tongue as easily as it did Dooku's. The similarities were disturbing.

Obi-Wan continued to study him, and all powers of speech fled Anakin. There were so many things Anakin wanted to ask, but had no idea how to phrase any of the questions. His eyes traveled over Obi-Wan's body, studying it more intently than he had before. The red welts had faded, but Anakin could see bruises lining the other man's arms, legs, and abdomen. Anakin's eyes fell on a long white scar on Obi-Wan's right arm, and he remembered Obi-Wan in the holophotos of Naboo with his arm bandaged.

Anakin ventured to speak. "I'm here to check on the, um... power generators. It's a bit warm in here."

"Pity. I was hoping they might overload soon."

Anakin licked his lips and turned to the silver panel farthest away from Obi-Wan. He detached it from the wall with a deft flick of his fingers on the latches and discovered the problem in a few minutes. One of the main wires was old and not channeling power directly. Anakin made a mental note to have it replaced and put the panel back on. He turned back to staring at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan had moved to his bed and was sitting on it, a neutral expression on his face. His fingers absently stroked the chain hanging off his collar, and he sat back easily, as if he were on some sort of lounge chair. He hadn't bothered to cover up with his sheets. Anakin's eyes drifted down to admire all of Obi-Wan. Despite his initial impression, Anakin realized Obi-Wan wasn't particularly stunning, but there was something magnetic about him. What Anakin had found beautiful at first was merely handsome. It was Obi-Wan himself that drew Anakin to him, dazzling him somehow.

"Surely you have something better to do than ogle me, Skywalker? That is your name, isn't it? Skywalker?"

"My name is Anakin."

"I could probably care less, but I can't think of how at the moment."

Anakin scowled at Obi-Wan's sarcasm. "You're the one who asked my name."

Obi-Wan's fingers still danced over the chain, distracting Anakin for a moment while he wondered if Obi-Wan's fingers danced over flesh just as expertly. "What do you want, _Anakin_? Or am I to take a guess?"

"I don't want anything from you," replied Anakin. The cool expression on Obi-Wan's face was starting to wear on Anakin's nerves.

"So you just came in here to check on the power generators and look at me like I'm something to eat?"

The blatant way Obi-Wan referred to Anakin's attention made his insides squirm. "Basically."

Obi-Wan studied him again, looking bored now. "I suppose Dooku has been telling you all about how wicked and terrible the Jedi and the Republic are, then?"

This line of questioning would only bring him trouble, but Anakin didn't want to leave. He liked the sound of Obi-Wan's voice; it was mellow and soothing for all its sarcasm. "_Count_ Dooku might have mentioned something along those lines."

"He is lying."

"Who's to say you're not the liar?"

Obi-Wan smiled. It was fleeting and bitter, but it lit up his face. "Of course, I might be the liar. I expect you're just worried about pleasing your new master."

Anakin bristled and took a step forward, the insinuation boiling the blood in his veins. "I'm no slave," he hissed.

Obi-Wan looked a bit startled. "Neither am I. And look where I am."

Those words had so much truth ringing to it that it cut right through Anakin's rage, calming him instantly. Images of Dooku raping Obi-Wan flashed through his mind, and he frowned. "I'm sorry." Anakin found he meant that.

Obi-Wan leaned forward. "If you're so sorry, then why aren't you helping me? Cut the power. Find my lightsaber. Help me escape."

Anakin just stared at Obi-Wan. He had no reason to trust him.

Obi-Wan's chain clinked as he let it go, holding out his hand to Anakin. He suddenly looked desperate, vulnerable. "I could make it worth your while," he said, his voice a bit unsteady. "You want me, I can tell. I'll do whatever you want. You're not bad-looking, I wouldn't mind. I'm pretty good at it, even. Just help me get out of here, and I'm yours."

Anakin stumbled back, repulsed by the offer at the same time he was intrigued by it. On a base level, he wanted Obi-Wan to touch him, to be at his disposal. Yet, it was the idea of having a slave, of Obi-Wan simply paying a debt with sex, that disgusted him.

Obi-Wan licked his lips. "You're thinking about when I tried to kill you, aren't you? Look, I don't know you, and you're working for my captor. I was only trying to escape. It wasn't anything _personal_."

"I don't want a whore," spat Anakin. "I don't trust you. And Dooku has given me no reason to distrust him."

"Of course he hasn't - he's a Sith Lord. That's what they do. They cloud your judgment, skewer the truth and decorate it with lies. They make those lies sound pretty. They offer you exactly what you want and make it seem beautiful, but if you examine it closely, it's tarnished, corrupt." Obi-Wan's face - his whole _being_ - was alive as he spoke, and Anakin could do nothing but strand transfixed as he listened. "Can't you see, if you look a little closer? If you believe them, if you accept their poison gifts, the worst thing possible will happen. You will become one of them. And there's no going back. You'll be lost in darkness. Even if you want it -" Obi-Wan's voice trembled and something lurked in his blue-gray eyes, making them seem darker. "- you can't give in. The reward they offer you is worse than any punishment you ever imagined."

Obi-Wan sat back then, the passion that had vibrated within him wiped away like sand blowing in the wind. The spell was broken, and Anakin regained his senses. Obi-Wan's words were pretty, but he had no proof. He had _nothing_ but those words.

"I had a dream once," said Anakin, feeling a bit light-headed. "A dream that you were my Master, and I your apprentice. That we were brothers. But that was just a dream. And I can't believe you."

He turned on his heel and fled the room just as Obi-Wan called out after him.

"I had the same dream."

...

Asajj Ventress looked at Anakin as though she was considering the messiest and most painful manner in which to kill him. Her bald pate gleamed in the weak light, and her black dress clung to her in a suggestive manner - a manner that suggested she had the physical power to rip Anakin in two with her bare hands.

"You went into the Jedi's room without supervision?" she hissed, her hands resting on her hips. Near her lightsabers, Anakin noted with no little trepidation.

Anakin wasn't going to let her intimidate him. The blaster he had hidden in his tunic gave him confidence; he was still the fastest and sharpest shooter on all Tatooine. He scowled at her. "I fixed the power without frying anything before. And I sure as hell didn't set him loose. I just need to replace one of the bad wires to prevent the power generators from overloading. You'll appreciate that if the system suddenly blows, and Obi-Wan gets loose while you're sleeping."

Ventress backed off. "Fine. Let's go, then."

Anakin hefted his toolkit, made sure the new wire was coiled properly, and walked towards Obi-Wan's room. Ventress followed, stalking the whole way. She looked furious about something, but Anakin had learned that she always looked like that. He didn't like her at all, but he needed her there. He was afraid he might do something stupid if left alone with Obi-Wan again - something stupid like believing him.

Obi-Wan was sleeping when they entered the room. Ventress cast him an unusually hateful glare; Anakin suddenly realized that in comparison, she looked at Anakin quite amicably. Obi-Wan stirred as they came in, looking surprised to see them.

A very nasty half-smile crawled over his face. "Well, well. If it isn't the would-be Sith Lord. Any luck in convincing Dooku you have what it takes yet, or is he still suffering under the burden of reality?"

Anakin also realized that in comparison, Obi-Wan had treated him amicably. The two seemed to have some sort of history. He quietly slipped off to work behind the silver panel, paying close attention to Ventress and Obi-Wan.

If looks could kill, Obi-Wan would be dead and buried. Ventress had her hands _on_ her lightsabers now. "Don't forget who's chained to a wall like a common, if rather unruly, pleasure slave, Kenobi," she hissed. Anakin was somewhat surprised Obi-Wan hadn't caught fire under her gaze yet.

"Somehow, I think you envy me even for this. I'd bet you'd just _love_ for Dooku to chain you to a wall and have his way with you."

"When Dooku finally tires of you and has you killed, I hope I'm the one given the pleasure of removing you of the burden of your head."

"I doubt he'd give an important job like that to galaxy-class scum like you."

Ventress lurched forward as though she wanted to hit Obi-Wan, but stopped herself. She spun on her heel, turning to Anakin with a livid face. "Are you done yet, Skywalker?" she demanded.

Anakin snapped the wire into place. "Pretty much. I just need to finish a few -"

"Do whatever you need to," she said and stormed from the room. The door slid shut behind her, leaving Anakin alone with Obi-Wan. His heart pounded against his ribcage.

Obi-Wan looked very satisfied with Ventress's exit. He faced Anakin, giving him one those impossibly mild-yet-intent gazes of his. Anakin looked away and turned back to finishing what he was doing. Looking at Obi-Wan put dangerous thoughts into his head and a jumble of confusion, lust, fascination, and envy in his heart.

"You don't _want_ to believe me, you know," said Obi-Wan after a moment.

"What?" Anakin looked up so fast he nearly slammed his head into the top of the panel opening.

"It's not that you can't believe me. Of course you can. You just don't want to."

Anakin worked his jaw for a moment. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I don't want to be chained to a wall."

"So free yourself. Do the smart thing and become Dooku's apprentice."

"That's just a different form of slavery. I'll pass."

"What?" Anakin asked in a sharp tone.

Obi-Wan shifted on the bed, the light dancing over his pale flesh. "Not all forms of slavery involve chains and official forms of indenture. If I become Dooku's apprentice, I'll become a slave to his thinking. I'll turn into you or Ventress."

Anakin had moved closer to Obi-Wan before he could stop himself, the hydrospanner clutched in his fist. Fury rose up inside of him, shoving away all thoughts of personal safety. "I'm not a slave," he said, the words grinding out of him.

"If you mindlessly accept what others tell you and do their bidding without question or thought to what you're doing, then you're a slave."

Anakin stalked closer, fighting off the urge to put the hydrospanner through Obi-Wan's skull. He was _not_ a slave, not anymore. Obi-Wan had no right to call him that. It made him angrier than he had been in a long time. "Shut _up_! You don't have any idea what you're talking about, Jedi. You think you understand slavery, just because you've got a chain wrapped around your neck? I'll tell you right now that you're right: it _is_ more than chains and official forms. It's about fucking living someone else's life, to do their bidding, while watching your own life and that of the people you care about waste away. It's about not having a choice, ever. It's about taking away what makes you a person and being treated like _property_."

Anakin knew he'd said too much when Obi-Wan's expression softened. The look in Obi-Wan's eyes, now full of understanding, drained the anger right out of Anakin. Anakin relaxed, lowering the hydrospanner, somewhat surprised to find he'd raised it.

Obi-Wan stood up, and Anakin belatedly realized he was close enough that Obi-Wan could touch him. Yet, Anakin couldn't bring himself to move away and only stared back at Obi-Wan. He tried not to let his eyes drift down to the rest of Obi-Wan's nude form, but was only partially successful.

"Having the choice between your soul or your freedom is hardly what I call choice."

Anakin had no answer for that. Obi-Wan made a movement towards him, chain clinking with him, faster than Anakin could move away. Instead of hitting him, as Anakin expected, Obi-Wan grabbed his arms. "Help me, Anakin Skywalker," he whispered, leaning closer to Anakin. "You're my only hope. I don't know how much longer I can hold out."

Anakin broke out of Obi-Wan's grip and trapped Obi-Wan's wrists in his hand. Obi-Wan met his gaze, seeming more calm and placid than Anakin had ever seen him. A moment passed, and Obi-Wan leaned into Anakin's space. He snaked out his tongue, swiping it along Anakin's lips. Warmth shuddered through Anakin's body at the contact, and he opened his mouth in surprise. Obi-Wan swiped his tongue along Anakin's parted lips again, leaving a trail of electric sensation behind, and then withdrew back to his bed. He stared up at Anakin as he sat back, his eyes smoky.

"I... can't," Anakin choked out. He turned and practically ran from the room, the hydrospanner still in his hand.

...

Anakin avoided Obi-Wan's room for the rest of the week. His stomach twisted up whenever he thought about Obi-Wan's tongue on his lips or of Obi-Wan in any way, shape, or form. Worse, whenever he thought of Dooku's return, of Dooku's hands on Obi-Wan, or of Dooku breaking Obi-Wan, Anakin found it hard to breathe. Jealousy and anger seared the back of his eyes.

It was almost as though a shadow covered the manse when Dooku returned, his back as straight as ever. He moved sharply, nodding to Anakin and Ventress as he entered. He dusted sand off his cloak with the air of a returning king, asking what was for dinner so naturally, so calmly, that Anakin could almost forget how vicious Dooku had been when he forced himself on Obi-Wan. Almost.

Dinner was conducted as usual, and Anakin had to force himself to answer Dooku's polite questions on his recent activities. He kept thinking about what Obi-Wan had told him, looking at Dooku as he'd never seen him. Before, Anakin had thought him a good man, if a bit harsh and extremist on his political views. Now, he seemed like a monster, pretending to be that good man.

"I'll see if Obi-Wan has re-thought his decision tonight. I'm sure he's ready to be, ah, persuaded again," Dooku told Ventress. Anakin stared at his hands - hands covered in age spots that did not tremble as he cut his meat. Hands that would be touching Obi-Wan tonight, perhaps breaking him of his will.

_"Having the choice between your soul or your freedom is hardly what I call choice."_

Anakin looked away, once again fighting off the anger and jealousy building up inside of him. This was insane. This was stupid. Dooku was his only chance off this planet, his only chance of making something worthwhile of his life. Dooku gave him money, respect, everything Anakin had lacked. And Anakin wanted to blow it all because of some pretty Jedi that had caught his eye?

When dinner was over, Anakin retreated back to his room and paced. He tried to think. He tried to be reasonable. He tried to make sense of something. All he did was feel. He wanted Obi-Wan. He wanted Obi-Wan free. Only half of him cared about Dooku's ulterior motives; the other half cared about the fate of a man that could make Anakin feel like he'd had a life-changing experience just by touching Anakin's lips with his tongue.

Anakin took as much money as he could stuff in a backpack, a few changes of clothing, and a blaster he hid inside his poncho after attaching a silencer to the end of the barrel. He'd figure everything else out if he survived. When he walked down the long, wide hall, he kept expecting Ventress to pop out of every shadow, but she was nowhere to be seen. The manse was silent and empty as the tomb he thought it like when first entering.

Anakin shivered.

He didn't even bother trying to convince the Gamorrean guard outside of Obi-Wan's room to get out of his way. He shot him quietly, palming the door panel before the Gamorrean's body even hit the floor. Killing someone in cold blood was easier than Anakin had expected. The Gamorrean's death passed out of his mind as soon as he slipped inside Obi-Wan's room.

Dooku was already turning to face him, his unbuckled pants clutched in one hand and his glowing red lightsaber in the other. Obi-Wan was strung up by his own chains again, put on another perverted display. Anakin swallowed and squeezed the trigger, firing off shot after shot at Dooku. The older man blocked each shot with an ease no one his age should have. There was a loud hum, and Anakin realized the blaster bolts were heading _back in his direction_.

Anakin ducked and rolled away from each shot, moving faster than he ever had in his life. He could feel that presence of that _something_ guiding his every movement, helping him shoot as he ducked, warning him when to avoid a reflected bolt. Dooku moved fast, but Anakin moved faster.

Lightning arced out Dooku's fingertips, flashing towards Anakin before he could even blink. Anakin's world turned to blue fire, and he fell back, his blaster useless as his hands twitched convulsively. Dooku stood on the floor in front of Obi-Wan's bed, sending electricity coursing through Anakin from across the room, as if killing Anakin were simplicity itself. All this power seemed to come so easily to Dooku. The pain was unimaginable; Anakin could do nothing but writhe on the floor and scream.

"It didn't have to come to this, young Skywalker," Dooku called. "This was foolish of you."

It was Obi-Wan who answered. "So was turning your back to me."

There was the sound of metal clinking violently, and then Dooku's lightsaber jerked back, the red light a blur to Anakin's eyes. The lightning moved off Anakin, and now arced over Dooku and Obi-Wan. Metal chains appeared around Dooku's throat, yanking the old man back onto the bed. Obi-Wan had somehow gotten free and was choking Dooku with all his strength. Obi-Wan arched as the blue lightning coursed over him, but he was able to avoid Dooku's wild lightsaber swings.

Regaining control of his senses, Anakin squeezed off another shot from his blaster, and this time, Dooku couldn't block it. There was a flash over Dooku's chest, and the sweet smell of cooked meat filled the room after a moment. The lightning stopped, his lightsaber clattered to the floor unlit, and Dooku fell still. Obi-Wan let him slip to the floor, panting from exertion. Obi-Wan's skin smoked a little, but he looked otherwise unhurt.

Anakin's hands shook as he broke off the smoking silencer, staring at Obi-Wan with a sense of trepidation. He'd just ruined _everything_, and his earlier visions of Obi-Wan choking _him_ with those chains came back to haunt him. Obi-Wan wasn't staring at him, but at Dooku's lightsaber, which had rolled out of his reach.

"Hand me his lightsaber. We need to get out of here quickly," said Obi-Wan. His voice was so calm that Anakin shook all over again, as if to make up for it.

Anakin picked up the lightsaber; the smooth metal handle felt strangely natural in his hand. "How do I know you won't betray me?"

Obi-Wan's expression was bland. "Contrary to what Dooku might have told you, Jedi are not in the habit of returning favors by betraying their rescuers. _We're_ the good guys."

Anakin paused before he held out the lightsaber. "I was a slave once," he whispered, wondering why he said that even as it tumbled out of his lips.

"I know," said Obi-Wan. He looked up at Anakin, his expression sympathetic, but lacking any pity. He looked a bit tired and in pain; he'd been abused for weeks now. Anakin wondered how Obi-Wan could take it and only show half an emotion on his face.

Anakin handed him the lightsaber, his heart in his throat.

Obi-Wan snatched it from his hand, slicing through his chains with a sharp movement before standing up. He held the lightsaber under his chin, and Anakin moved forward in alarm. Obi-Wan's collar dropped to the floor in two pieces, and Anakin relaxed, wondering why he'd even been worried Obi-Wan was going to harm himself. "I need clothes," said Obi-Wan, turning away. Fresh bruises lined his arms and thighs. Anakin felt sick at the sight.

Anakin reached inside his bag and pulled out a loose pair of trousers and a tunic. "I know I'm a bit bigger than you are, but I figured..."

"Thank you," said Obi-Wan, taking the clothing out of Anakin's outstretched hands. He dressed quickly. Anakin tried not to stare at Dooku's smoking corpse.

"Let's go. I'm sure Ventress knows by now," said Obi-Wan, touching Anakin's arm. The contact sent a jolt of _something_ through Anakin, and he followed Obi-Wan out of the room.

The hallway was dead silent and completely dark. Anakin blinked and then looked back into Obi-Wan's room. The light cut out just as he turned his head. "She must have cut the power," he whispered.

Despite the complete darkness, Anakin could sense Obi-Wan nodding his head. "Quiet," he said, lighting up Dooku's lightsaber. There was a soft hum, and a small red circle of light surrounded them, casting a sinister glow over Obi-Wan's features. Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to follow and moved down the hallway in slow, measured steps. Anakin kept close behind him, his blaster still warm in his hand.

The hum from Dooku's lightsaber grew louder, and the light brighter. Anakin suddenly realized that it was because two other red lightsabers had lit up down the hall, their humming mingling with the one in Obi-Wan's hand. Ventress stood between the two red shafts of light, looking positively demonic. Her black dress made it difficult to discern what was shadow, and what was her.

"Anakin! Get down!" screamed Obi-Wan, rushing towards Ventress.

Anakin ignored him and fired off a volley of shots at her. Her lightsabers flashed in front of her, and she reflected his bolts back at him. Obi-Wan met her blades in a dazzling spin of light just as Anakin heard a horrible wrenching sound. He looked up and realized one of the huge light fixtures was hanging in pieces, damaged by the reflected shots.

Anakin saw Ventress's face in the flashing red lights, grimacing as she held out her hand and sent him sprawling onto his back with a push of the air itself. The light fixture crashed down on top of him, slamming into Anakin's back and legs. His blaster went skidding across the floor, and sharp pain flashed up through Anakin's body. He screamed as blood rushed through his ears, struggling against the metal fixture on top of him, but it was too heavy to move. He could hardly see what was happening beyond him except for flashes of red as Obi-Wan and Ventress fought. It was silent but for the thunderous sound of their lightsabers clashing against each other.

Moments passed, noted only by the pounding of Anakin's heart. He continued to try to work his way out from under the fixture, his eyes dazzled by the flashes of light. Fear coursed through his veins, and Anakin stopped breathing when one of the shafts of light died. He heard a soft thud - like that of a body falling to the ground. Two shafts of light remained. They drew closer.

Two lightsaber blades. Ventress had won.

Anakin struggled furiously, rage filling him at the thought of Obi-Wan dead. He couldn't see anything but red now. He wanted to make Ventress suffer so much it _hurt_. The sense of _something_ grew stronger in him, stronger than ever before, and the fixture suddenly skidded away from him of its own accord. Ventress leapt to avoid it, blades still flashing.

Anakin struggled to his feet, determined to rip Ventress to pieces with his bare hands before she cut him down.

"Are you all right?"

The sound of Obi-Wan's mellow voice cut through Anakin's rage like a knife. His vision cleared as Obi-Wan held up the lightsabers to give him light - one was Ventress's.

"How did you...?" asked Anakin.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Obi-Wan's expression looked curious in the red glow. "I knew you had the Force in you, but I've never seen anyone who wasn't trained actually use it to such an extent."

"What?" asked Anakin, so startled by what Obi-Wan said that he forgot he was in pain for a moment.

"Never mind. Can you walk?"

Pain suddenly hit Anakin again like a meteor plowing into a planet. "I can. It hurts, though," he choked out, realizing the more he tried to stand up straight, the more it hurt.

"We can't take Dooku's ships. They'll be tracked. We need to find another way out, before the battle droids come." Obi-Wan turned one of the lightsabers off and helped Anakin to stand. Anakin leaned into Obi-Wan, smelling sweat and his own blood.

"I have a landspeeder... Dooku gave me... out back... Home. I need to... get home," mumbled Anakin, feeling light-headed.

He passed out before they even left the hallway.

...

Anakin kept passing in and out of consciousness. He remembered Obi-Wan shoving him into the landspeeder. He also remembered arriving at Mos Eisley. He even had a vague memory of being inside a bacta tank, but the rest was a giant blur.

He awoke in a dark room, feeling sore, but without distinction. He was groggy enough to lie there for a few moments, trying to understand where he was and why. At first, he thought he was still in the dark hallway, waiting for Ventress to kill him. It took him several minutes to put all the pieces of his memory into the right order.

Anakin sat up abruptly, which made the room spin and tilt in a distinctly nauseating fashion. Despite the darkness, he sensed Obi-Wan beside him, stirring at his movement. Anakin clutched the bed, finally realizing what he was lying on. It was a soft bed with clean-smelling sheets stretched over his naked body. Obi-Wan's hand touched his shoulder.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

Anakin tried to answer, but his words came out an unintelligible croak. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm sore."

"That's normal. The doctor said you'd feel like that for a couple days. You just came out of the bacta tank this afternoon."

Anakin licked his lips, realizing he was quite thirsty. "Where are we?"

"A Mos Eisley medical center. I paid the doctor extra to keep us hidden in the sub-basement and to not mention our existence to anyone."

"Where'd you get the money?"

"Your backpack. I can replace it once my ship arrives."

"Your... ship?" Anakin head swam as he tried to process all of the information.

"I called for help already. A Republic cruiser should be here to pick me up sometime tomorrow."

Anakin felt a queer twinge in his chest, and if he'd been standing, he was sure he would have staggered. "You're just leaving?"

Anakin could sense Obi-Wan shrug in the dark. "I have to go back to the Jedi. There's still a war going on, though I doubt it will last long without Dooku in charge."

"Right."

Obi-Wan's breath suddenly hit Anakin's ear, making him feel incredibly warm. "I am grateful for your help, Anakin." His hand skated across Anakin's bare stomach; it felt strangely callused on his skin.

Anakin pulled away, ignoring the dizzying sensation that accompanied moving too fast. "No. You don't have to. If I want to pay for a fuck, I'll go to a brothel," he said, his voice flat. He wanted Obi-Wan, but he didn't want him under some sort of obligation.

Obi-Wan's hand stilled. "I thought you liked me." He sounded hurt and strangely young. His tone of voice reminded Anakin of what Dooku had done to Obi-Wan. Anakin felt sick to his stomach.

"I do. But I'm not Dooku. I'm not going to... do that to you." Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, pulling it away from his stomach. "I'm sure that was horrible -"

"I'm fine." Obi-Wan's voice was harsh, and Anakin imagined if he could see Obi-Wan's expression, it would be filled with anger. "A Jedi lets go of all his sorrow and anger. He does not dwell on the past."

Anakin reached out and touched Obi-Wan's face, and the pain he thought would be on his face wasn't there. It was inside him, though, buried deep, where only Anakin could feel it. "You're lying."

Obi-Wan didn't answer him, but he didn't move away from Anakin's touch, either. Anakin gently explored his face, memorizing his features by feel. Obi-Wan's face was smooth but for the prickles of a beard threatening to grow in. His features were solid, handsome, but not extraordinary. The two moles on his forehead felt as smooth as his skin, and his hair was thick and soft.

"Did you really dream of me?" asked Anakin after a while, remembering their first conversation.

Obi-Wan was silent for so long, Anakin thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded distant, dreamy. "After Naboo, I felt alone. I felt like I should have someone with me, a brother or a Padawan, but I didn't. I never took a Padawan, because they never felt right to me. When I saw you, I felt for the first time that I found that someone who should have been with me the whole time."

"That's how I felt, too." Anakin was in awe. He could never have put anything like that to words, at least not how Obi-Wan did.

Anakin dropped his hand and leaned forward to kiss Obi-Wan. His mouth was slightly open, and he put up no resistance to Anakin. The feel of his mouth was warm, wet, full of caged energy. There were echoes around Anakin as he pulled Obi-Wan closer, echoes of touch and emotion and sensation. It was slow and fast, hot and chilling, more and less. Obi-Wan kissed him back, his tongue moving against Anakin's. He had his own pace, and it was much slower than Anakin's, but far deeper.

Anakin still felt sore and dizzy, but it was unimportant now. He had a tingling sensation in the back of his head as Obi-Wan stroked his face, a sensation that made him want to shiver. He ran his hands over Obi-Wan's face and hair, wanting Obi-Wan, but wanting to give him something that wouldn't be mistaken for taking.

Anakin slipped a hand down to Obi-Wan's waist. He was wearing what seemed like a shift of some sort; Anakin lifted it up and placed his hand on Obi-Wan's bare hip. "If you want," Anakin said, breathing louder than usual.

Obi-Wan drew back, but his hand was still pressed against Anakin's cheek. "Yes," was all he said. Anakin didn't entirely understand why Obi-Wan would want this after what had happened, but he seemed sincere, and Anakin wanted to give it.

Anakin pressed Obi-Wan back, pushing up his shift. He slowly moved his hand along Obi-Wan's abdomen, sensing Obi-Wan without seeing him. Obi-Wan's skin grew warmer and softer, until Anakin's hand bumped against something both hot and hard. Obi-Wan's breath hitched, and Anakin was surprised to find that Obi-Wan was already hard, but didn't wonder about it for long.

Anakin bent down and paused, giving the other man a moment to stop Anakin if he needed to. Anakin had only done this a couple times before and felt a bit nervous, wondering if Obi-Wan would even like it. Obi-Wan's fingers tangled in his hair; he murmured something, but Anakin couldn't hear what. He took Obi-Wan in his mouth, listening as the other man made a soft noise.

Obi-Wan seemed to stop breathing for a moment, and his fingers stilled in Anakin's hair. Anakin froze, wondering if Obi-Wan wanted him to stop, but then Obi-Wan's fingers trailed across his cheek tenderly. "It's all right," he whispered.

Obi-Wan's breathing soon became erratic, but his fingers were light and steady as they massaged Anakin's scalp. Anakin was pleased to find echoes of Obi-Wan's pleasure reverberating around him. He was making Obi-Wan feel good, and that knowledge gave him a rush.

Obi-Wan was unsurprisingly well-mannered, a skill that Anakin had never mastered, especially on the receiving end of a blowjob. Obi-Wan's hands moved gently around Anakin's face and hair, but did not impede his actions. He never once bucked his hips, though he strained under Anakin's mouth. Obi-Wan's breathing was labored, and the noises he made were soft and pleasing to the ear. Anakin closed his eyes, basking in the reflected pleasure Obi-Wan was feeling, almost as if it were his own. It aroused Anakin as well.

When Obi-Wan came, the echoes of pleasure grew louder around and through Anakin. Obi-Wan gave a soft cry. The euphoria surrounding giving Obi-Wan's pleasure coalesced around him, and Anakin came in a warm rush a moment after. It was as though Obi-Wan's orgasm had been his. Anakin sat up in surprise, trying not to shake, and wiped his mouth.

"That was strange," said Anakin. "I've never come just because -"

"You felt it through the Force," said Obi-Wan, still lying back on the bed. Anakin couldn't see him, but wished he could. He imagined Obi-Wan looked pretty good at that moment.

"I don't understand." Anakin reached down and put a hand on Obi-Wan's chest. He could feel Obi-Wan's heart pound underneath his fingertips. He sensed satisfaction and affection mixing with that deeper sense of anger and hurt that lurked inside Obi-Wan. Anakin sat back when he realized that affection was directed at him; he felt like his heart might burst.

Obi-Wan sat up and kissed Anakin. It was a gentle kiss, lingering on his lips long after Obi-Wan pulled back and said, "You have the same powers I do - stronger even. If I'd met you when you were still a child, I would have tried to make the Jedi Council let me train you. But it's too late now, and you're too old."

"You mean... I... could have been a Jedi? I have those powers?" For some reason, knowing that chance was lost tore Anakin's heart in two. He grabbed Obi-Wan's arms too tightly, shaking him. "And I can't be just because I'm _too old?_"

Obi-Wan made no noise, but he pushed Anakin way with such force that Anakin skidded back along the bed and his head slammed into the wall. "Don't you _ever_ touch me like that again," he hissed. Anakin felt that deep-set anger and hurt flaring inside Obi-Wan and suddenly felt guilty for his own anger.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"But you did."

The sound of their breathing filled the room for a long stretch of time, and Anakin sensed as Obi-Wan moved back to his side of the bed. Anakin hesitantly touched Obi-Wan's shoulder after a moment. Obi-Wan stiffened, but his anger seemed to have faded back to that deep place inside of him. Anakin moved to lie down beside him, stretching his body behind Obi-Wan's and planting a kiss on Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan relaxed, so Anakin draped an arm over him and settled in.

Obi-Wan turned around sometime in the night and wrapped his arms around Anakin.

...

Anakin was finding it hard to breathe as he stood on the dusty streets of Mos Eisley, wearing a beige poncho over a new tunic and trousers he'd bought that morning. He stood outside the spaceport, waiting for Obi-Wan. Beings from more races than Anakin could remember milled around him, but paid him little attention. After a few minutes, Obi-Wan emerged with a silver case in his hand.

"Thank you for all your help," he said, handing Anakin the case. "This is to replace the credits I took."

Anakin took the case, but put a hand over Obi-Wan's, trapping it in his. Obi-Wan made as though to pull back until he looked at Anakin's face.

"I didn't care about the credits. Or the sex. Or even about the slavery in the end," Anakin choked out. "I only..." He couldn't finish it. How could he say how much he cared about Obi-Wan or how much he thought about him? He'd hardly spoken to Obi-Wan. It was stupid to feel so much for someone he barely knew - even if it was someone he would give his right arm to know better.

Obi-Wan studied him, his gaze clear and steady. Anakin still felt his anger and pain deep inside of him, along with that affection directed at him. "I feel like I've always known you somehow," said Obi-Wan after a moment, tilting his head.

Anakin looked away. The way Obi-Wan was looking at him hurt, and he had a desire to kiss him again, but knew it to be a bad idea here and now. "Same here."

"We could use pilots," said Obi-Wan, putting a hand on Anakin's arm. "And mechanics. If you want... to come."

Anakin found he could breathe freely again, and twisted his arm so Obi-Wan's hand was in his now. He smiled. "Yes. I want to come. I want to be with you," he said. He sounded like an eager nuna begging for scraps, but at the moment, he didn't care. "Would we... be together?"

Something passed over Obi-Wan's face, and his anger and pain and affection twisted together to form a strange sense of need. It was gone in a moment, at least from the surface. "I'm still a Jedi. If you come... our relationship has to be kept a secret," he said in a soft voice. "Jedi aren't allowed to have possessions or possessive attachment."

Anakin took a moment to work out the implications of what Obi-Wan was offering him. "I can live with that. But..."

"Yes?"

"I need to stop by my stepfather's farm first. I want to give him this money and tell my mother goodbye."

Obi-Wan smiled. "We can do that," he said, squeezing Anakin's hand. There was warmth in his eyes, a warmth that hadn't been there when Anakin first met him.

They walked towards the spaceport together, arm-in-arm, the future stretching out in front of them like a rolling cloud.

...

In the center of Coruscant sat a man with the mind of a snake and the ways of a spider. His name was Palpatine.

Some called Palpatine the leader of the Republic, but those who knew the truth called him its dictator - of course, no one really knew the truth, except for him. He wanted more, though; the Republic was not enough. Soon the entire galaxy would tremble before him, once he destroyed the last thing standing in his way: the Jedi Order.

Palpatine sat by the window in his opulent office, watching the airspeeders zoom off in the distance. A storm brewed across the Coruscant sky. Dark clouds rolled along the sky, and lightning flashed - all by the design of the weather controllers that hung in the atmosphere. He imagined that the Force was much like the Coruscant weather in many ways: obedient to his whims. Palpatine sensed the stirrings in the dark side of the Force that told him the chosen one - his perfect apprentice - was coming his way. Soon, very soon, he would have his revenge - not just his revenge, but the revenge of the Sith.

He knew he'd been right to instruct Dooku to take refuge on Tatooine. Everything was finally falling into place.

_The End. For now._

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**Extended notes on** **the differences on characterization in this fic: (Please feel free to skip if not interested.)**

I'm working with the theory that environment and life experiences are what shape a person. I went down to bare necessities on personality - that is to say, I considered the TPM characterizations of Obi-Wan and Anakin and built them from there. This is an alternate universe, so the characters are not quite themselves, as you might have noticed.

For Obi-Wan, with Qui-Gon having never died, he is not trying to emulate Qui-Gon as much as he was in AotC. Having never bested Darth Maul, he is more unsure of his own abilities and strength - he lacks the confidence he had in AotC. Contradictorily, his skills are still formidable, and without Anakin there to outshine him, he is considered the most prominent and powerful young Knight. Also, not ever having taken a Padawan, much less one as difficult to manage as Anakin, he has not gained the wisdom and serenity that teaching others often gives you. He lacks the will of iron he displayed in AotC canon. So, yes, I'm working with Stover's statement that Obi-Wan would be a "lesser" man without Anakin there to help shape him.

For Anakin, it was a bit more tricky. He never became a Jedi or dealt with any of those strictures or the repression. He was able to remain in the nurturing care of his mother, and furthermore, was freed from slavery around age ten. Cliegg Lars helped shape him, though their relationship was a bit rocky at first. Much as I believe Owen and Beru helped give Luke his strength in ANH, I believe Cliegg and Shmi's influence on Anakin mellowed him a bit and gave him more control over his passions. Anakin's head was also not filled with how he was "the chosen one", nor was he subject to Palpatine's subtle manipulations. No one really treated him as anything particularly special beyond a young man with extraordinary gifts or put any particular stress on him outside of the stress any young man would have working on his stepfather's farm. I am by no means saying that Obi-Wan or the Jedi made a "lesser" man out of Anakin in canon, but obviously they weren't able to shape him into the perfect Jedi. I'm exploring the idea that Cliegg and Shmi raised Anakin into a more normal man - so the similarities in his personality to both Luke and Leia are intentional.

On a note of characterization that didn't directly have to do with the storyline, my reasoning for Qui-Gon surviving the fight with Darth Maul was that having never met Anakin, Qui-Gon never dealt with the stress or pressure of Anakin's existence. He never had to argue with the Jedi Council, and since a stop at Tatooine was unnecessary, his mission did not encounter as many difficulties as it did in canon. Qui-Gon was able to keep focused and clear enough in the moment to avoid that fatal blow. As for what really happened on Geonosis between Qui-Gon, Dooku, and Mace, I have to leave that mystery for another time.


End file.
